


Perfect Pie Crust

by VeraBAdler



Series: April 2019 challenges [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 05:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraBAdler/pseuds/VeraBAdler
Summary: Sam overthinks things. Dean and Cas overbake. Just another day in the Bunker.Prompt: Bake together.





	Perfect Pie Crust

Sam Winchester is on the horns of a dilemma.

While he can be swiftly decisive, especially when lives are on the line, in his leisure hours he might tend to overthink things a smidge. The ability to look at a problem from every angle serves him well as a hunter, but sometimes he realizes he's just spent twenty minutes in the hair care aisle, dithering about crème rinse.

And now here he is, wavering, a dozen paces from the closed kitchen door. 

Dean had told him yesterday, “stay out of the kitchen tomorrow morning, Sammy. Cas 'n' I are working on our pie crust and we don't need you underfoot.” It's a pretty clear direction, and God knows Sam doesn't want to barge in on them if “working on our pie crust” is code for some kinky sex thing. But it's after noon now, and the door is still closed, and Sam is starving his ass off. And honestly? He's a little bit worried about Cas in the kitchen. They've been in there for hours, and while Dean is a very competent cook, there was that one time when Cas almost burned the Bunker down trying to make frozen pizza rolls. So Sam worries. He wavers, and he worries, and he just wants a damn sandwich.

Eventually it's almost 1:00 and his stomach is growling and he forces himself to act. He keeps his tread heavy as he walks toward the door, and before he opens it he clears his throat and says, “I'm coming in, guys.” He waits another ten seconds or so, just in case they need to put their clothes back on or transfer some smoldering coals to the sink, but he doesn't hear any sort of scuffles behind the door. He's about to push it open cautiously when Dean yells, “c'mon, then!” which is another pretty clear direction, so in he goes.

He'd steeled himself for scorch marks, or bare asses, or a giant goddamn mess, so he's shocked to find the kitchen, and his Bunker mates, in pristine condition. There are seven pies cooling on the otherwise spotless counter. He can't smell smoke. And Dean and Cas are sitting placidly at the table in matching “Kiss the Cook” aprons, and they're writing up their findings in a notebook like they're Pierre and Marie Curie or something.

He can't quite stifle a noise of surprise, and Dean looks up, his eyebrows raised. “What?” he demands.

“I just...” Sam begins. Cas turns to him as well, the same inquisitive look on his face. “I was expecting a mess. Or a fire. Or for you guys to be naked.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “We're grown men, Sam. We can keep it in our pants for a few hours. And why would there be a mess or a fire? We know how to cook.”

“Well, sure, _you_ do. But Cas...”

Cas takes clear umbrage at Sam's implication. “Contrary to _some people's_ beliefs, I am a perfectly capable cook. Making a pie is no more complicated than casting a spell, and I am more than intelligent enough to follow a set of directions. Not to mention the fact that I have literally witnessed the entirety of culinary history from the first time a haunch of meat was shoved into a fire right up through molecular gastronomy. I can _cook_ , Sam.”

“Yeah, but that one time you tr--”

“That _one time_ I burned the pizza rolls, I was _distracted_. Your brother was sucking m--”

“ _Okay_ , I'm heading out for lunch. You guys want me to pick anything up?” He backs out of the kitchen, unwilling to hear the rest of that sentence.

Dean call after him, “Bring back some vanilla ice cream! We need to _a la mode_ these bitches!”

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link for this fic on tumblr is [here](https://blessyourhondahurley.tumblr.com/post/183962156521/april-5-pies-verabadler-supernatural).
> 
> This was originally going to be more about pie crust, and I was even going to share a few of the secrets my mother, the Queen of Pie Crust, told me _on her literal death bed_ , but then it ended up being from Sam's POV, and what the hell does Sam know about baking pie? So I guess I'll keep my secrets...


End file.
